Paradise Lost
by xLonelyDreamerx
Summary: Then the Lord God said to the woman, "What is this that you have done?" The woman said, "The serpent deceived me, and I ate." [Mallory x Michael Langdon]
1. Mallory I

_**"You will be hearing of wars and rumours of wars. See that you are not frightened, for those things must take place, but that is not yet the end."**_

– _**Matthew 24:6**_

* * *

Mallory's first memory had been the smell of grass and trees

"That's impossible," Her mother tells her with a laugh. She had only been four years old when they moved from Georgia to the sunny city of L.A to be closer with her sick grandmother.

But Mallory swears. "It's true" She can remember their little lake house, with the trees and the grass and the scent of fresh air, the lemon tree outside her window and the singing of birds every morning.

Her voice is deaf to her mother's ears and Mallory stops trying

It's pointless

Throughout the years, Mallory's life has been painfully dramatic; sometimes she can't help but wonder whether she has her own "Truman Show"

Her mother and grandmother are a dynamic duo whose forces she can't go against. Her mother, Beatrice is angry for letting her grandmother talk to her into teaching her palm reading, while her grandmother, Abby is furious with her mother for bringing home another man.

" _I told you not to tell her about this nonsense!"_

" _Our ancestors are something you should be proud of! What you should be ashamed of was bringing that monkey man inside our home!"_

" _I'm young! I can see whomever I wanna see! And you two wouldn't be awake to see us if you weren't trying to brainwash my six year old daughter with the same bullshit that killed my sister!"_

For a few seconds there's a stunned silence and Mallory comes forward with tears in her eyes.

"Momma, I don't want you and Granny fighting."

Beatrice's face softens as she takes her little girl into her arms. "We're not fighting, baby, we're just … arguing. Adults do that!"

"Your mother is just as stubborn as a goat, sweetling. No need for tears." Abby pats her back and shoots a warning glare at her daughter who avoids looking at her.

All of them go to bed and the next morning they all pretend as if nothing happened.

Mallory can't say she was surprised

In 2nd grade, Mallory has already fallen into category; she's one of the 'weird' kids.

It's not something she does, it's how she _acts_.

She is polite and nice to people like her momma taught her but she gets bored of their silly games easily.

She likes staring at the sky and finding shapes within the clouds, she likes helping the school with the plants and she is always up for volunteering.

Sometimes she's drawing during class but she hides her sketches because of past incidents with her teachers.

Apparently, her imagination is a bit disturbing

She would never forget the day her teacher pulled her mother to the side and gave her the picture she had drawn. Her teacher had been so concerned she almost called the police and social services and refused to let her leave.

It took almost an hour to convince that it was her gram's tales influencing her imagination

Her mother had been so upset that she refused to look at her during the whole car ride. Mallory promises not to draw anything else in class.

For what is worth, Mallory keeps her word and her drawings to herself.

Abby Bennet is known as the kooky lady around the neighbourhood, but to Mallory, she is more than a grandmother with crazy stories; she's a listener, a guidance, and at the end, a friend.

" _It was pathetic"_ She will lie to others when she is older because what preteen had her grandmother for a best friend?

Aside her freakish stories about witches, ghosts, and all the nonsense – her grandmother keeps going despite her mother's disapproval – Mallory loves spending time together.

The weekends belong to them; studying, painting, cooking together, taking care of their garden…

Her grams disapproves her mother's busy lifestyle; working all day at the hospital, trying to keep in touch with her friends while having failed attempts with dating men.

" _It's so boring to be alone"_

Her grams believes her mother should be focused solemnly on her. Mallory will never dare to say it aloud to her mother but she is glad. They don't really have anything in common and their quality time always ends up being awkward.

At some point, her mother gives up, much to grams' frustration, and Mallory can happily enjoy her free time either alone or with Grams

Today, it's Sunday.

It's sunny. Late afternoon with a typical L.A weather.

They are planting new bushes.

"Why roses?"

"A woman in the flower shop recommended it" Her grandmother starts. "…she showed me a picture of her own garden, full of rose bushes. A beautiful sight."

Mallory nods and encourages her to keep going. Grams has been acting oddly for the past few days and Mallory couldn't help but think of the worst. _Has her health worsened under her nose?_

Abby mixes compost with oil till she has formed a mound, losing herself in her thoughts

Mallory copies her movements, placing the bare root rose on the soil mound. Her hands hurts but she does not complain.

"Mom told me you went to the doctor last week," Mallory tells her quietly. "How did it go?"

Grams gives her a warm smile as she fills the hole with water. "Don't concern yourself with silly things, Mally"

"Your health is not silly" She protests with a frown, offended that her grandmother doesn't think of her health as a serious issue.

"It's the same thing, sweetling: take the pills, eat healthy, rest, etc, etc." She assures her with a dismissive tone, waving her dirty hand in the air.

Mallory pouts as she stares at her grams' hands making a soil mound over the plant; feeling suddenly guilty for not offering to do the whole thing herself.

She should be lying on bed, watching her favourite telenovela

"Perhaps you should go to bed then"

Her laugh startles her so much she almost drops the bottle of water. It's not one of her grandmother's usual laugh – warm, loud, and full of life – it's dry, almost bitter. "Nothing can make me sleep these days"

"Is it mom?" Mallory finally asks. Because who knows how many sleepless nights she has spend, listening these two arguing about every small detail.

At first, there's no response, other than rough movements, which make Mallory pity the poor flowers.

"I saw your drawings as I was cleaning your bedroom this morning."

Mallory closes her eyes, mentally cursing herself for being so thoughtless as to not hide her drawings somewhere as usual.

"A bleeding sky with dark crows, a woman with a crown of twelve stars and a red dragon with seven heads… How long?" She inquires, in a voice trembling with emotion.

Mallory stares at her in disbelief, unable to understand how she could get so worked up for this

"Grams, it was for a school project," She says slowly, as if explaining to a child. "My teacher read us 'The Woman and the Dragon from the bible and told us to recreate an artwork in order to see what we understood."

"No" replied she, with vehemence. "You know, deep down you-"

Mallory places her hand on her grams' back, rubbing her fragile body careful and gently

"I love your stories, Grams" Mallory tells her cautiously, knowing she had to tread carefully, "and I'm proud of where we're coming from but it's all… you know… _stories_."

"None of you understand!" Grams shakes her head furiously, yanking herself away from her. "I have seen it Mally! A huge pale snake taking you, and transforming into a monster with claws" Her voice continues to tremble, as if she is ready to cry. "He'll take you and I-I-"

"Grandma?" Mallory looks at her wide eyed as she tries to gasp for air. "Wait here, I'll bring you your pills!"

Mallory runs inside ignoring her gram' protests, feeling like the biggest idiot for causing this. She opens a drawer in the kitchen where she knows Grams keeps her medicine.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Her mother asks from behind her, unaware.

"Something's wrong with Grams. We were in the garden and-" she struggles to find the right words but her mother seems to understand for she rushes out of the house before she can even complete her sentence.

Mallory follows her. Gram had already become pale and had fallen on the ground. She notes however, that she no longer cries anymore, she was only staring at the mud with a blank expression on her face that sent her chills on her spine.

Her mother approaches and sooths her enough to take her upstairs. Mallory offers her the medicine but her mother only shake her head, "She just needs rest"

Mallory sits in front of the kitchen table, feeling like the biggest asshole in the planet. _What was I thinking?_ Just because Grams acts all tough, it doesn't erase reality; she is old and her mentality is more fragile than ever.

 _There's a special place in hell for idiot like you_

"How's Grams?" she asks as soon as her mother comes in.

"She's fine" She replies with an easygoing tone as she pours two cups of chocolate for them. "Mal, you need to understand that Grandma is old, she's not always going to be here."

Despite knowing that, Mallory still doesn't want to think about it. In every dream she has, Grams is always _there_ , in her fantasies.

"I don't even know what happened," she replies instead. "She freaked out over a school project"

Her mother raises an eyebrow and guessed before taking a sip of her cocoa. "The one with the dragon?

At her nod, mother pokes her cheek, giving her a little smile. "For what is worth, it _is_ a good drawing."

Mallory gasps, unused to being praised by her mother

"Don't look at me like that! I can appreciate a talent" A hand creeps up, and Mallory stares at her mother stroking her palm as if it was something alien. Her mother has never been the affectionate type.

"Will thinks so as well"

 _Oh_

That explains it

Will Drake was her mother's new love interest

A fashion designer who moved in Los Angeles mainly because he was looking for inspiration, if Mallory had heard correctly

Sometimes it's hard to eavesdrop from upstairs

"I showed him those cute clothes you designed and he was impressed!" Her mother claps her hands in excitement in the same way she did when Mallory admitted to like Cheyenne, the guy her mother was seeing a month ago.

"You stole my sketches?" She feels a flash of irritation and something cracks from behind them but neither of them bothers to look.

" _Stole_!" She repeats the word with a scoff. "You always exaggerate, sweetie. I just bragged about my little girl" She pouts, crossing her arms

Sometimes Mallory wonders which of them is the adult and which the child.

"Perhaps you could go to an art school" Her mother keeps going, unaware of her patience slipping away.

She doesn't know whether to blame it on her hard day or her mother's bullshit but Mallory's fury springs to life. "You don't even like my drawings! You find them stupid and creepy!"

Her mother doesn't move an inch. She rolls her eyes and simply brushes few strands of hair away from her face. "Well, it would be a nice change to draw something other than silly figures. Clothes is a good start." She adds with an approving nod.

Her fists clenches and Mallory inhales a deep breath as she answers tightly. "They're shadows, not figures. And it's called having a goddamn fantasy!"

Her mother sits up straight, throwing her a glare. "Watch over your language, young lady"

Oh now she wants to play the mother

"You know what? This is pointless." She exclaims. "We're discussing my artistic skills when Grams had a breakdown and it's my fault!" Her shoulders drop and her mother lets out a long sigh as she gets up and come from behind her, her arms swallowing her into a hug.

"Don't mind your head about it" She tells her with a tone that leaves no room for arguments. " In the future, this will be a funny memory, you'll see. We'll all tell, «Remember that time grandma lost it over a school project during 6th grade?» and we'll all laugh"

That doesn't sound plausible but Mallory nods hopping to end this.

She want to go to her room and pretend the world doesn't exist

Satisfied, her mother leaves her and goes back to making crepes.

Mallory goes to her room, her footsteps feeling heavy as she passes from her grams' bedroom – she peaked inside only to find her asleep. She closed the door, not knowing whether she should feel relieved or disappointed.

Inside her room, Mallory feels like she can finally breathe but her eyes burn with tears.

She feels so exhausted she wants to cry; she's tired and angry, and a 13 year old cliché

Next thing she knows she'll think the world is against her.

Lips pressed into a hard line, Mallory grabs her notes from class and seat comfortable on her bed. She doesn't know what she's doing; she's not a believer: people are born, they grow old, and then they die.

Yet here she is, on her bed reading the mess that is the bible, trying to understand, trying to _connect_.

 _A great sign appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet and a crown of twelve stars on her head. She was pregnant and cried out in pain as she was about to give birth. Then another sign appeared in heaven: an enormous red dragon with seven heads and ten horns and seven crowns on its heads. Its tail swept a third of the stars out of the sky and flung them to the earth._

 _The dragon stood in front of the woman who was about to give birth, so that it might devour her child the moment he was born. She gave birth to a son, a male child, who "will rule all the nations with an iron sceptre." And her child was snatched up to God and to his throne. The woman fled into the wilderness to a place prepared for her by God, where she might be taken care of for 1,260 days. Then war broke out in heaven. Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, and the dragon and his angels fought back. But he was not strong enough, and they lost their place in heaven._

 _The great dragon was hurled down—that ancient serpent called the devil, or Satan, who leads the whole world astray. He was hurled to the earth, and his angels with him. Then I heard a loud voice in heaven say: "Now have come the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God, and the authority of his Messiah. For the accuser of our brothers and sisters, who accuses them before our God day and night, has been hurled down._

 _They triumphed over him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony; they did not love their lives so much as to shrink from death. Therefore rejoice, you heavens and you who dwell in them! But woe to the earth and the sea, because the devil has gone down to you! He is filled with fury, because he knows that his time is short."_

 _When the dragon saw that he had been hurled to the earth, he pursued the woman who had given birth to the male child. The woman was given the two wings of a great eagle, so that she might fly to the place prepared for her in the wilderness, where she would be taken care of for a time, times and half a time, out of the serpent's reach. Then from his mouth the serpent spewed water like a river, to overtake the woman and sweep her away with the torrent. But the earth helped the woman by opening its mouth and swallowing the river that the dragon had spewed out of his mouth. Then the dragon was enraged at the woman and went off to wage war against the rest of her offspring—those who keep God's commands and hold fast their testimony about Jesus-_

"This is ridiculous" Mallory scoffs at herself for wasting time. She throws the papers carelessly on the floor, unbothered that her mother will probably scold her tomorrow.

She lies down and turns on her tv, watching absentmindedly a show about four sorority girls being threatened by a red mascot as she tries to come up with a new way to make up to Grams.

She figures that after school, she'll ask her to show her again how to sew and knit; she hates it but Grams loves these things.

Relieved to finally have an idea for the next day; Mallory falls asleep just before Nick Jonas's character dies.

That night, she dreams of a rotten field with dry air, and a boy surrounding by snakes under the bleeding sky.

* * *

 **Notes:**

The last piece is called 'The Woman and the Dragon' and is from Revelation 12

Mallory's last name is Bennet because it comes from Benedictus which means "blessed"

(finally my Latin were useful for something)

This takes place before Apocalypse but we'll get there eventually

Lastly, I'm dyslexic and English is not my mother tongue so forgive my mistakes


	2. Michael I

**Notes** : The age thing probably confused you in this chapter, it sure as hell confused me! Basically Michael skipped 3rd and 5th grade.

You have no idea how many time I wrote this chapter because there were so many directions I wanted to go.

At some point, I wrote Constance getting him a bird and he did some gruesome things on the poor thing, so I deleted it because I didn't know how you guys feel about Michael being a creepy kid.

* * *

" **Expectations are dangerous when they are both too high and unformed."**

― **Lionel Shriver**

* * *

 _"Now, what am I gonna do with you?"_

It is not the first time Michael Langdon hears these words

He smiles at his grandma who places her bags at the kitchen table.

She comes forward kneeling in front of him. Her palm strokes his cheek, her skin is rough and a bit cold but Michael does not mind. He forgives her

"What's this? Hm"

He giggles as her eye points to the dead animal.

"She didn't catch any mice. She was useless."

His grandma hums and looks at the bleeding cat with a thoughtful look. She goes to examine it and Michael goes for the bags, looking for his favourite biscuits.

He grabs the food excitedly. Ever since the playtime with nanny Flora, his grandma had chosen to lock him at his bedroom every time she left without allowing him to get out at all until she returns. He hates it but at least she always brings him whatever he asks to make up for it.

"I knew I should have gotten a bird."

Michael ignores her murmurings; he is too busy enjoying the chocolate cream in his mouth.

He seats on a chair as grandma starts cleaning his mess with a sigh.

" _Tate always liked birds"_

As his body grows abnormally fast so does his mind.

Squeezing and slicing cats becomes too easy. Michael no longer cares about the blood – it's messy and grandma doesn't even appreciate the hard work - he longs for the chase because he's bored.

It's something that even his teachers agree with. "His mind work so much faster. I believe it is a waste to have him with the other children"

His grandma smiles a real, shiny smile – the kind that Michael _breathes_ for – and nods with approval; this is the kind of difference she wants, the only difference she'll allow.

For what it's worth, they live peacefully and happily together. Michael brings praise, and outstanding compliments, their neighbours congratulate his grandmother for raising such an unusual _perfect_ child and his grandmother – proud and happy – pats his hair as if their words mean nothing. "He has always been such a remarkable boy"

And when her dogs go missing one evening, she doesn't ask about it.

At eight, Michael has jumped a grade and has started attending 4th grade; to congratulate him his grandma no longer locks the door; it's odd to walk around the house without his grandma watching his every move but he is relishing his new found freedom.

It doesn't last long

The problem with Michael is… he gets bored easily

And when he's bored he has to entertain himself

Grandma wants him to have friends, she wants him to talk about football with boys of his age, and be disgusted with girls and complain about school and homework. That's a favour he can't do, because he doesn't care about football, school is the same routine every day, homework is easy and _of course_ he can't hate girls – grandma is one of them!

Today is Sunday. Grandma is a at a friend's house (the medium that hates him. Michael saw her once when he was five and she almost left running. She never returned ) to gossip about their neighbours

Michael never meets them, they always leave soon afterwards within a day or two

Grandma laughs when it happens "You should be happy Michael, this is our house"

He likes how she uses the word "our", she includes him, it means it's another one of their secrets. But he can't understand her obsession about the house. He, too, feels drawn to it – like there's something calling him, trying to pull him close but he resists. It's the first time it happens.

Last year, during one of his school trips, they passed a hotel, which one of his classmates claimed to be haunted and he had gotten the same feeling, the same pull. "My dad was going to stay there with a few friends during high school but he bailed on them the last moment. Next day, they were all dead"

He doesn't really care about religion but he certainly doesn't refuse the existence of spirits.

His musings are cut off by a scream.

He runs towards the window, the one that faces the _Murder House_ and he can see a woman with a nightgown, wearing only one slipper running outside. A man follows her with a cat in his arms – it was white and Michael can't help but think the beautiful contrast the blood would make on her snow white fur.

He shakes his head, he's not a careless little kid anymore but he does miss his mischievous days from time to time.

He watches in pure amusement as a man follows her (her husband perhaps) wearing only SpongeBob underwear. He laughs as he closes the curtains.

Grandma was right

They were able to last for full three days

Growing up means changing

Michael hates changes.

He knows adaption, but he doesn't particularly _like_ it

By the end of the following year, he skips a grade – again

His grandma, of course, come up with the right excuses, a wrong paper, a wrong number and people eat up her lies easily. They're both very good liars.

Michael doesn't like growing up; the world around changes and so does everything he knows.

He's tired of watching the neighbours from their old house come and go, over the years

He hates how lonely he becomes, how his grandmother is not _enough_ anymore

He hates that he has to keep his gifts (His powers. He can't say magic, the word seems ridiculous) in secret because it angers his grandma every time he uses them (even accidentally) to the point of giving him the silent treatment.

But most of all he hates the ghosts she sees every time she's looks at him.

"Such a sweet boy, Adelaide would have loved you" Every time he brings her food upstairs, when he knows she had a bad day

"You would have loved playing with Beau, he would have kept you a good company"

"Of course you like _this_ type of music, just like Tate"

He

Can't

Breath

Which is how he started running from time to time in the early mornings (grandma already talks about him joining the track team next year - he's going to burst her bubble eventually). He knows things he should not but that's only because of people. They talk. He always caught a pair of eyes watching him wearily, a teacher, the janitor, the librarian… Sometimes they murmur too and he pretends not to hear them. They watch him like a hawk, a tickling bob that is going to explode any moment.

Michael will prove them wrong.

Therefore, he adapts. He makes _acquaintances_ and becomes social. He volunteers with grandma and he joins drama class ("My Hollywood star!" she coos) and he is _good_. Grandma is not unfair, she rewards him; she doesn't complain about the music, she stops bringing up her dead children ("they don't matter they're dead!" He screams one morning), she spends once more time with him – they're either cleaning the house or gardening and none of this is fun but at least she's _here_.

It's a routine, _their_ routine

And once again, they're happy and peaceful

Michael has just turned twelve – there's still a piece of his birthday cake left in the fridge – when he kills someone.

Not something (a cat, a dog), a _someone_

It's more significant (more exciting) and the weight on his shoulders is heavier but the reason behind his action is worth the trouble.

He seats down on the floor and he feels like a child again. _Nanny Flora is on the ground with eyes wide open and her neck has dirtied the carpet, grandma will be mad._

The man doesn't have his throat sliced open but he's bleeding from everywhere else. It'll take ages to clean up the rug and he almost groans at the thought.

Soon enough, the door opens.

Michael closes his eyes and pictures his grandma's every move.

She shuts the door with a loud thump, she announcing her presence because she loves the sound of her voice. "Michael, I'm home!" She takes off her coat and comes towards the kitchen to open her shopping bags.

He hears her high-heels click-clack down the floor.

"You won't _believe_ how many people I found on the flower shop this morning , you'd think th-"

A gasp follows and his eyes snap open

"Now, what am I gonna do with you?"

* * *

 **Important** :

I decided to instead of making this story completely Mallory's point of view to switch every chapter. One Mallory, Two Michael, Three Mallory again etc. Or would you prefer to write just Mallory and mention Michael's childhood in the future?

Please tell me your opinion, because there have different directions and plots and I just can't decide.


	3. Mallory II

**Α/Ν:** I don't like this chapter because it's more of a filler but it was unfortunately necessary. I just can't wait to write Michael's chapter!

* * *

" **Because never in my entire childhood did I feel like a child. I felt like a person all along.  
The same person that I am today."**

– **Orson Scott Card**

* * *

 **Mallory II**

The wicked witch

That term is what she has been known as for quite awhile now.

 _8_ _th_ _grade sucks!_ Mallory thinks as she starts swinging her legs back and forth

"Mallory"

She looks up to find Scarlet Johnson waving her from afar. Mallory ignores her and looks up at the sky; it was cloudy and grey. _Perhaps it'll rain_.

"Hey" Scarlet greets with a sympathetic smile as she seats on the right swing. "Are you okay?"

"How did you find me?" Mallory asks instead

Scarlet shrugged, "You always come in the playground when you're upset"

An eyebrow is raised at that, and Scarlet adds, "I heard your mom bitching about it to mine"

 _That makes sense_

"Look, I don't want to be rude or anything but I'd like to be alone right now"

"Too bad the playground is a public place" Scarlet smirks, stretching her legs. Mallory frowns but remains silent, then she picks up her school back and starts leaving.

"Wow wait" Scarlet jumps and grabs her by the arm. "I was joking, okay? Jeez, you're sensitive one aren't ya?"

"Would you not be the same?" Mallory shots back. "Everyone calls me the wicked witch now. It's humiliating"

"Look, I can relate to being an outcast, okay?"

Mallory doubted that. Scarlet was one of the pretty girls in class, ginger, pale, skinny, and with green eyes… She looked like a fairy who escaped from a book.

Scarlet points her right eye, "I'm blind on this one, and people suddenly think I'm made of glass. I'd take nasty comments any day over pity."

Mallory looks down on her lap and can't help but guiltily recall how she had always felt pity for Scarlet. Looking at the other girl right now, Mallory wishes she could be half as confident as she appeared to be.

"You wanna hang out to my house? My parents are not home."

Mallory thinks of her grams who has been keeping her distance from her for two weeks, she thinks of her mom who complains about the new problems that arose in her relationship with Will Drake, and then she thinks how she'll have to deal with all of that as soon as she enters her house, so she nods.

"Lead the way"

Conveniently, Scarlet lives only few blocks away from her home but that's not something she hadn't known.

When they arrive, they go straight up to her bedroom and Mallory is a bit shocked at the Christian home decor that seemed to exist around the house.

Scarlet throws her backpack on the floor and jumps onto the bed carelessly. "My dad works at the department of theology and religious studies and my mom is… devout, in case you're wondering about the whole…." She waves a hand, indicating the decoration of her room.

Mallory stands awkwardly before she joins her on the bed, opting to sit at the edge of it.

"So, how did the whole witch thing started?" Scarlet asks from behind her

"My grandma always said our ancestors were actually related to the Salem witches." She says with a shrug, trying to play it cool. "Mom hates the whole thing. Her older sister, my aunt, believed it and got into some sort of…cult and died because of it"

"Sounds like an episode of _Criminal Minds_. Was she murdered?"

She feels a bit surprised at the cool tone in Scarlet's voice but Mallory, nevertheless replies. "Yeah, in our lake house, in Georgia"

"You have a lake house? Lucky!" Crossing her legs, she leans closer. "I'm honestly surprised our moms started going to pilates together given her family history, no offence."

 _Mom does pilates?_

"Mom wouldn't even let me watch _Harry Potter_ because she thought it was about influencing kids through Satanism."

"That's ridiculous"

"I know!" Scarlet exclaims with a pout. "This week she caught me watching _Sabrina: the teenage witch_ and now she's forcing me to go to some church school. I was half hoping you mom would to the same thing with you so I could have some company."

Mallory frowns; her mother had never mentioned anything. "I doubt she'll do that. My mom rarely goes to church herself since she's so busy, plus I'm not a believer."

Scarlet tilts her head, puzzled by her response. "Then what's your religion?"

"Atheism?"

Scarlet lets out a sceptical hum, considering her answer. "So when we die where do you think we'll go…?"

"Honestly? I think we'll just cease to exist. It's bit horrifying if you think about it but yeah, that's how I think we'll go."

Scarlet wanted to ask more about it but was afraid that she might offend her. Her friendships with girls never lasted too long, and so far, Mallory seemed different, _good_. "Well, I'm orthodox so obviously I believe in heaven. But it's fine that you have different perspective."

"Thanks" Mallory replies, looking around the room. The room was pink and lilac with some pastel colours highlighting it – it was making it almost bearable to ignore all the pictures with saints on the wall.

"So!" Scarlet says suddenly, clapping her hands together "Can I see your drawings?"

"I-I don't know" she stuttered. "I don't really show them to anyone."

Scarlet places her hand above her chest, "I would never make fun of it. I mean I can barely sketch a tree I don't think I have any right to judge. Don't you want to hear someone's opinion about it?"

"A different perspective would be nice," Mallory admits. It still felt odd though, the only people she had openly shared her art had been her mother and grams, and all she had received was a negative response.

As far as she knew Scarlet, she was a nice girl, withdrawn and most of the time hanging around boys, which didn't help her reputation. But Mallory was afraid; she poured her heart in those pieces of paper and she didn't want to face rejection again.

Feeling a tight knot in her stomach, Mallory decides to ignore her insecurities – the worst case scenario was that she'd probably end up eating launches at school alone.

Bending down to get her backpack, Mallory pulls out a blue folder where she kept her recent drawings – the old ones were safety locked inside her drawer, away from unwanted hands.

"Here. These were made this week." She hates how her hands tremble as she gives her the papers. If only the earth could open and swallow her now.

Scarlet takes a long look of them, which doesn't help Mallory's nervousness.

 _Calm down, she's just a girl, not a critic_

"These are fucking amazing," she blurts with a grin.

"R-really?"

"Hell yeah!"She gushes and confesses, "When I heard the unbreakable duo mocking you I kinda expected to see less."

The duo Scarlet was referring was Serena and her brother. Mallory couldn't really call them bullies – more stuck up and cocky if she was honest.

"I wish I could wear these clothes," Scarlet said, her eyes flickering from the drawing back to Mallory. "Are you interested in cloth design?"

Mallory nods, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "My dream is to study fashion design in Paris."

"Fancy!" She beams giving her back the drawing. "It's a tough industry though, so you shouldn't be so sensitive."

"I know" She did, but Mallory was naturally a people pleaser. It was hard to get rid of the habit.

"What about this one?" Scarlet pauses, laying down two different pieces of paper.

Mallory looks down at the dreams that had been hunting her for so many nights. She had convinced herself that she only drew her dreams out of boredom, but it wasn't entirely true.

Most of her nights were sleepless; Mallory always ended up waking in the middle of the night panting and sweating from what she had seen. She had looked up online on how to fall back to sleep and so far only drinking hot cocoa had somewhat helped. Yet, most of the time her thoughts had travelled back to her dreams, to the boy in the rotten field, to the damn seven-headed dragon she couldn't stop dreaming about almost every night.

"It's based on my dreams – or what I end up remembering anyway."

"You're good with realism" Scarlet praises her again with a nod, without looking away. "The boy's cute, but I like the dragon one better. Is it based on _Game of Thrones_?"

Mallory chuckles, "Not really"

Scarlet brings the drawing closer, inspecting it carefully. "Why does it have seven heads?"

"I don't know," Mallory lies. "My head is a weird place."

Scarlet purses her lips and hints, "If we're talking about interpretation, I've read that dragons can either symbolise hard work and patience or fear and trouble depending on whether you were afraid of them or not."

"You actually believe these things?"

"I'm open minded" Scarlet explains as she puts everything back inside the folder. "And if you want an advice, you should actually look into your ancestry and ignore what everyone says at school. Next year, we'll be freshmen and Serena and her brother will be far too busy with maintaining their image and popularity to bully."

Mallory finally laughs, ignoring the serious look she received "Is that what they teach you in church school?"

"No" Scarlet sighs and seems ready to drop the subject before she adds, "But let's just say the world is bigger than you can imagine. Trust me"

* * *

 **A/N:** I hope you guys enjoyed it although, it wasn't much. Also, if you're a reader of "The Right Thing", then I want you to know that I will continue that story as well. I'm currently planning the chapters


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